


Agent

by Onki



Category: Inception (2010)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-04-10
Updated: 2018-04-17
Packaged: 2019-04-21 00:43:19
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,478
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14273220
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Onki/pseuds/Onki
Summary: After several years of stealing, lying and going around alone Eames joins a spy agency, which does stealing, lying and goin around for a nobler cause.





	1. Chapter 1

Eames was what people would call a ‘scum of society’ with a capital S. Him wasting his life savings in in dingy cantinas and easy women, that flocked him once he wins, was an usual occurrence. Some would call it a habit even.  

Of course there were moments when he was out of money. But that wasn’t a problem at all - he’d just  break into houses, or do a conjob. In fact, he was so good at it, that rumors about an uncatchable charming thief that could get away with anything started circling in the underground world. Well, charming part was added by Eames himself, still, the statement stands. Truly, he had never encountered any safe that he couldn’t crack it open, nor a dog that could not be silenced, or a lady that could not be seduced.

Several people tried to seek him out, but he made sure to stay down and carefully sweep away his tracks. There  _ were  _ people out there that wanted him dead after all, and Eames would like to live a little bit longer - there were way too many places he wanted to visit and sights to see before he died.

“Heard some big fish wants a job done,” bartender says, as he wipes one of the pitchers. He catches a lonely bead of sweat with the rag that he was using, before continuing to rub the glass with renewed vigor.

“Oh?” Eames looked up from his drink, focusing on the man. The bar was already closed, however, Neil, the bartender didn’t mind him at all. The place was empty besides them and few lazy flies that circled and buzzed around the dusty windows.

Neil probably knew that he was the infamous thief that everyone was talking about for these few past years. Which wasn’t really hard to figure out, since Eames got really generous after a big heist. Yet the thief was oddly fine with it. He helped with dodgy businesses for Neil, and in return Neil turned a blind eye to his ragged breath, when Eames ran into his bar, hiding behind the counter to lose another mob of people who figured out that Eames didn’t quite play by the rules in a round of blackjack.

“Didn’t catch the details, but heard it’s some sorta corporate secret an’ all. Since you’re so bored, why not check it out,” Neil shrugged, wiping the surface of the bar now, which was sticky all over from the full evening. God knows what that poor rag went through, was it even washed once in its miserable existence?

“Well, if it’s so hush-hush, how did you manage to get a whiff of it in the first place?” Eames couldn’t hide his piqued interest though - it was always interesting to open a can of worms of corporations. Also making all those posh CEOs squirm like the snakes they were wasn’t on Eames’ top ten list of hobbies, but he wouldn’t turn away the opportunity to enjoy it either. To add oil to the fire, his continuous boredom for the past few days surely made him more open to horrendously bad ideas.

“C’mon, whaddya think of this old man?” Neil pointed at himself, looking from under his forehead, making all of his double chins smush tighter under his face. Eames only raised his brows, shrugging. 

“Oh, ye wound me heart.”

While Neil was busy with his theatrics, the bell by the door chimed. Eames didn’t bother look back.

“Eames,” called out an unfamiliar voice. 

Eames was never truly ‘ _ Eames’ _ for a long time. John, Eugene, Charles - sure, but never Eames.

Neil must’ve noticed his knee-jerk reaction of stilling in a middle of tipping back his shot of tequila, because he quieted down as well, eyes growing wary.

“We’re closed if you can’t see,” Neil’s eyes grew thinner from his glare, his bushy brows hiding them even more.

Eames’ back was still towards the newcomer, he didn’t want to acknowledge him. But his curiosity be damned. After few seconds, he whipped his head backwards.

A man in his thirties with a round face stood in front of him, with an expression of a true innocence with a hint of smugness. Once seen, the man slantered over, throwing his jacket on the barstool beside Eames.

Eames could already see Neil’s hand itching towards the shotgun underneath the counter, looking at Eames for a signal, who in turn shook his head a firm ‘no’. He ought to give a chance to the man in front of him who figured out his real name - it was only fair that way.

“Have you ever thought you could pull off an impossible mission?” the man squinted his eyes, trying to appear more mysterious, which, alright, worked a little bit for Eames. Without waiting for his answer, he continued, “Name’s C.”

“Letter, really? Could’ve picked ‘x’, or ‘z’ - sounds more intricate and obnoxious” Eames couldn’t hide the huff of disbelief accompanied with a snort. He couldn’t believe the man in front of him had managed to find not only his real name, but his location as well. He was probably a decoy, spokesman, expendable. Surely he doesn’t believe Eames is just going to let him walk away after this.

The silence stretched on, making Eames acutely feel the humid air around them, bustle from the streets growing more deafening.

Just when Eames was about to crack and ask him what the hell the man wanted from him, ‘C’ started talking again.

“I know the circumstances we met at the moment are not the best, however, we just simply didn’t know how else could we get your attention - you have a fleeting existence in this world.”

And there it was, ‘we’. Could be another person, or could be a whole mob. Eames has grown pessimistic with years, it was probably the latter. He should consider a therapy at this point.

“Well, better start talking then,” Eames suggested. Neil was openly palming the shotgun now, ready to fire any second.

“Afraid the talk we’re about to have are to be in public domain,” ‘C’ pointedly looked at Neil, “It’d be better if you followed us to our car outside.”

A car. so he  _ did  _ come with a back-up. Probably ordered to blow this place apart if he doesn’t come out without a hair out of place. Tempting to just run now, but Eames had nothing better to do, might as well walk into a trap. Why not? Besides risking Neil’s bar for his own mishap is hardly a reason for him to lose his life.

“Sure, why not,” his answer seemed to stun both men, as they looked at him with confusion, then - more confusion, mostly from Neil.

“Boyo, surely you don’t mean…”

“I’m sure  Mr. Eames can make his own mind”, ‘C’ stood up, picking his jacket, expecting Eames to follow.

“I’m sure I’ll come back in one piece,” Eames left a generous tip, before going after the man.

Walking outside was a welcome change from the musty air of the bar. The sun was only rising, grazing rooftops of the buildings. Perhaps Eames had overestimated ‘C’, as there were only two cars parked outside the bar.

“After you,” the man opened the door for Eames - as if he’d just run now. 

“This better be worth it.” Eames muttered under his breath before he slid into the car.


	2. Chapter 2

As soon as he entered the vehicle a bag was thrown over his head, which was far more gentler than the ones he had before, still wounds his heart that they wouldn’t even trust him enough with their location.

“Really, a bag?” Eames only snorted, getting more comfortable in the seat - a luxury he never had - usually he was stuffed rudely into the car trunk. It was amazing how he had managed to stay alive for so long.

“A technicality. Now, back to our talk. I’m coming from a newly established organization-”

“Now, hold on. Newly established? Well this is embarrassing I thought I was getting recruited into FBI”, he wanted to pull off the ridiculous bag over his head, but as soon as he tried to reach it he heard a click of a gun.

“I would not recommend that Mr. Eames,” came an unfamiliar voice from the front, “All those big organizations and we’re the only ones that tracked you down, froze all your assets around the world and have a list of your ‘friends’. Without your judgement we know we are more than qualified now.”

Straight to the point. Eames could respect that. He waited for the man to continue, but it seemed like he was done talking. The rest of the ride was spent in silence, so when the screech of the tires echoed around, it hurt ears.

“We’re here. You can take off the bag.”

Getting used to the light was much easier - they were in a dimly lit garage of sorts. However, there were no cars around, solid layer of dust covering the ground with occasional dead leaves. Suppose they decided to off him here if he refused to join their little tea party.

“We don’t have time to sit around and chat. We hope you’ve made your decision on our way here”, the man in front of him didn’t even turn around, before getting out of the car.

The ‘mysterious’ C looked at him expectantly, waiting for him.

“I’m afraid I have to leave you here now. Others will brief you further.”

And just like that Eames was practically thrown out of the car, left alone in a dark cold garage with a man that seemed to not give a single fuck whether he stays or not.

“Mr. Eames,” came the snappy voice. Eames looked up and - oh my, maybe he got a reason to stay in this little spy agency after all. Much younger man stood in front of him, dressed to the nines - full suit in this heated country without a single hair out of place. He didn’t even seem to sweat, which was a miracle in itself, usually Eames would be sweating buckets by just simply existing in this country.

“And what is  _ your  _ name”, Eames lowered his voice, swaggering towards the other man.

There was a slight pause - one would not notice if they weren’t accustomed to reading people - before he replied.

“Arthur.”

“Arthur. No ‘X’, ‘Y’, ‘Q’’s?” Eames mocked. He doubted it was his real name, but it seemed to suit him.

“It’s Arthur. I take it you will be joining us now?”

There was a little sly undertone in his voice, which was surprising for Eames. He seemed so… wooden and mechanical, yet Eames couldn’t ignore the slight upwards pull of his lips as he asked the question.

“I could give it a try”, Eames dragged, trying to continue doing whatever they were doing at the moment.

“Very well”, Arthur turned around and walked towards the rusty door, all the little charm gone.

Eames could only gather his shattered pride and follow him. Has he woken up on the wrong side of his bed, usually people are somehow affected by his sleazy flirtations.

They went through several doors, before they got to the semi-lived in space. It wasn’t as dusty, but it was more messy than the rest of the building: paper stacks on top each other were pinned and taped all over the walls, various colored strings were connected to pictures, making the room feel like a den of spiders.

“Our team is small, but efficient. We do not flaunter in numbers, and we do not plan to”, Arthur managed to duck and dodge all the strings and stacks without even being out of breath.

“And what have you done so far then,” Eames had managed to knock down one stack, he tried his best to put it back in order (unsuccessfully so) and hurried after Arthur, who did not even help.

“We’ve been established only recently. You were the missing member of our team.”

“And what made you think I’d join this ragtag team right away?”

“You worked alone since the beginning. You’re not getting any younger, wouldn’t it be better for you to have a backup?”

Again, a fair point.

“True, but I could’ve just went out of business, you know. Get on some island and live there till the end of my days”, Eames went on. 

“But it’s not your nature,” Arthur finally stopped and looked back,  “You like what you do. You like the intrigue of a successful heist. We won’t force you to stay, you can leave now and never come back. But I see it in your eyes, you’re dying to know what we’re doing.”

Arthur had managed to walk close enough that their faces were inches apart. Eames could get a hint of citrus aroma coming off of Arthur.

Yes, Eames could admit it - he was incredibly turned on and in, for whatever job they throw at him now.

“This way”, Arthur pushed the door behind Eames’ back, revealing another room with other people inside.

“Yusuf - our chemist and medic,” he pointed at the chubby man, who briefly looked up from the bottle he was pouring  _ something _ into.

“The man you met in the bar is one of the head agents,” a girl popped out from behind the counter, smile plastered on her face.

“Oh, hey, Arthur!” Yusuf tried to shush her, pointing at the bottle, to which she diligently put a spoonful of powder, “Yusuf is making some drink and I’m helping.”

“Ariadne, our technician,” she managed to curtsey, making the powder fly all over the place. Yusuf only sighed dejectedly before throwing a rag on the counter and walking away.

“Rude. Call me a coding guru sounds way better. And Yusuf, c’mon i just put one milli-milligram more tea powder than necessary it’s still a tea.”

“No, it’s ruined,” his voice was muffled, whole upper body inside a tall box, hands frantically searching for something.

“Drama queen,” Ariadne muttered, before adding water to the tea anyway.

“I heard that!”

“Anyway, who’s he.  _ Oh,  _ you must be Eames!” her face brightened up, “You sneaky asshole! We’ve been digging around for a whole month to find you!”

“Well, apologies,” Eames gave her an innocent smile.

He honestly did not expect the team to be so -  _ friendly? _ Arthur’s attitude made it seem like it’d be just like in some movies - strict suits and black shades. Yes, even indoors.

“So, yeah, it means we go to next stage of our plan, right? Did Cobb say anything?”

“He went to the Benefactor to brief. We need to pack and leave now”, Arthur checked his watch, before going out, leaving Eames with the two.

“Don’t worry, he’s actually a real softie on the inside,” Ariadne helpfully added, aggressively stirring the tea, making loud crackling noises.

What did he really join again?

**Author's Note:**

> just a theme i've been thinking about for a while


End file.
